Accidental Fiancé Read online

  Take that, women's magazine that was the only thing to read when I left my phone in the car when waiting for a dentist appointment, I'm fucking enlightened.

  "That's not exactly going to be a selling point this week."

  Well, damn. Can't win.

  "It's not?"

  "No. You're supposed to be impressing these people. The men, especially Brad, should be intimidated and think I must be the ‘one who got away’ because I was amazing enough to land you. The women should want to drop their panties, but also be swept away by how sweet and attentive you are." She pointed at me. "Except for the bride. You stay away from the bride." She dropped her finger. "But the important thing is that I have to be the center of your attention. OK? Regardless of the other women who might be there, you can only be interested in me. It has to seem completely real."

  Cracks were forming in her sharp, sassy shell and I could see it in her eyes. This wasn't about the flight. This wasn't even about the wedding. There was something much deeper causing the panic I could see in those wide, glittering eyes. I took a slight step closer to her.

  "I'm sure that there are plenty of amazing things about you," I said softly. "You don't need a man to prove that to anyone.”

  Our eyes met again, and I felt the air between us seem to thicken. Suddenly Roxie shook her head, her cheeks flushing as she looked down in her bag and started digging around for something that was probably nothing. I stepped up to the kiosk and tried my best to figure out how to use it. Flying commercial was much more complicated than skipping security, walking out onto the tarmac and getting on my jet. It was moments like this that I wonder if all my efforts to hide my fortune actually made sense or paid off. Finally, I noticed the prompt asking me to put in my name and insert my credit card. I followed the instructions and at last, succeeded in getting the little machine to spit out our boarding passes. I was starting toward the gates when I heard a woman’s voice call out from behind the counter.

  "Mr. Cavett?"

  I paused and looked over my shoulder. Roxie was walking toward the counter and staring at me.

  "We have to finish checking in," she said, gesturing at the counter.

  "Isn't that what we just did?"

  "We still have to have our IDs checked and leave our bags."

  "Then why did I use the kiosk?"

  "That's just what you do."

  I sighed and walked back toward her.

  "This is ridiculous," I muttered under my breath. "I just had to buy tickets. We'd almost be there by now in my jet."

  I finished my regression to toddlerhood before I got back to the counter and offered the customer service representative a tight smile.

  "Hi," I said.

  "Hi," she purred back.

  I was starting to understand what Roxie was talking about. She was standing right there with me and yet this woman was acting like she didn't even exist. I reached out and slipped my arm under the straps of the bag Roxie carried on her shoulder so that I could wrap it around her waist. She gasped slightly as I pulled her closer.

  "My girlfriend and I need to catch our flight. We're really eager to get on with our vacation."

  The color drained from the woman's face and her jaw tightened.

  "Your ID please, sir," she snapped.

  Her customer service was certainly no longer as attentive, but all I could think about was my arm on Roxie's waist. The bulky clothing she had chosen for the flight did nothing for her figure, but I could feel her lush curves and the rise and fall of her ribs beneath my hand. She felt slightly stiff as if she couldn't relax under my touch. That was alright. We had a whole week ahead of us.

  The woman got us through the rest of the check-in process as slowly as she possibly could, snatched away our luggage, and pointed us in the direction of the gate. I noticed that Roxie was walking faster and faster, until she was nearly jogging by the time we were halfway across the terminal.

  "Why are you running?" I asked.

  "It took so long for us to check in," she said. "I'm worried we're going to be late. I wanted at least a couple of minutes to get settled in." She looked over her shoulder at me. "What was that, anyway? Do you just never fly?"

  "It's been a while," I said. "You don't need to run. We're going to be f—" Damn it was hard not to say the word 'fine'. "We're going to make it on time. We have priority boarding."

  "We do?" she asked. "How do we have priority boarding?"

  "I told you," I said, "I have connections with the airline."

  Those connections being a credit card with no limit.

  As we approached the security checkpoint, I detoured and headed for the express boarding line. The wait was much shorter here and we were whisked through with minimal invasion. I noticed that Roxie looked almost disappointed as we made our way toward the gate.

  "What's wrong?" I asked.

  "Oh, nothing," she said. "It's just that I wore this specifically for security."

  I looked at the clothing that she had chosen. She was wearing a pair of black leggings and a lightweight, oversized long sleeve t-shirt. The unbuttoned neckline of the shirt had shifted to the side, revealing the strap of a tight tank top beneath.

  "You did?" I asked. "I just figured you wanted to travel in comfort."

  "No," she said. "Comfort was not my objective here. I planned on taking off the t-shirt when we got to security. I was hoping at that wearing nothing but skin-tight spandex that gave me nowhere to hide anything might lessen the chances of them wanting to search me."

  I didn't want to point out that her taking off that shirt and standing there in nothing, but spandex might actually increase the chances that the security guards would want to give her a full pat-down. I was definitely considering it. You could never be too safe.

  "I'm sorry," I said. "We could go back there and stand in the line if you wanted to. I wouldn't want to waste the outfit."

  "No, that's alright," she said." I had just geared myself up for it. But you're right, at least it's comfortable. How did you do that, anyway?"

  "Connections," I said.

  She nodded slowly, her eyes briefly flickering over me. I wondered what was going through her head. This couldn't be easy for her. For me, it was just a whim, something new to do. For her, this was her life. But despite her minor freak out during check-in, she was remaining remarkably calm. I couldn't decide if that was just her personality and she was able to weather a storm well, or if she was, in fact, the storm.

  We got to the gate and I walked up to the podium.

  "See?" I said. "We're not late. They haven't even started boarding yet."

  The man standing there took our boarding passes and checked them, then handed them back to me.

  "Very good, Mr. Cavett. You are welcome to board now."

  "Thank you," I said. I looked at Roxie. "Do you want to go ahead?"

  She nodded.

  "Sure," she said.

  We walked down a strange little corridor that led into the airplane and I handed the boarding passes to the flight attendant waiting at the door. She smiled the frighteningly cheery smile I was confident had to be taught in flight attendant school and gestured for us to head into the plane. I led Roxie into the empty cabin that made up business class, and took a left towards the next set of curtains at the front of the plane. Yet another flight attendant waited for us there. This was all starting to feel like some sort of covert military maneuver.

  Flying had gotten scary as hell.

  This final attendant checked our passes carefully, scrutinizing them to ensure we were going to the right section of the plane. She lifted her eyes from the tickets toward Roxie, seeming to take in her stretchy black pants and messy bun. I thought she looked adorable, but apparently, this was not the type of attire the attendant was accustomed to seeing in this section of the plane. I was really starting to not like these people. I was seriously contemplating talking to my family about buying the airline for the purpose of retraining and improving services when the atte
ndant finally deemed us worthy of going in.

  She opened the curtains and stepped aside to allow us to pass. I heard Roxie gasp when she walked in behind me and I couldn't help but smile.

  "Connections," I whispered over my shoulder to her.

  Chapter Four

  Roxie

  First class? Am I seriously flying first class?

  I was almost afraid to walk away from the curtains. I felt like if I took even a single step down the aisle, the flight attendants would swarm me and I'd be allocated to an overhead compartment for the rest of the flight. Luca, however, didn't seem to be fazed at all. He seemed right at home, actually. He started down the aisle, but paused after he passed by a few rows and noticed that I wasn't right behind him anymore. He adjusted his carry-on bag over his shoulder and turned around to look at me.

  "What's wrong?" he asked.

  I held out my hands to indicate the luxurious cabin around us.

  "What kind of connections do you have, exactly, Luca?"

  He met my eyes and grinned mischievously, and I felt my heart beat faster in response. I chastised myself and forced my eyes away from his mesmerizing smile.

  "It's not a big deal," he said. "Come on. Sit down and relax."

  Did he really just say that us being in first class wasn't a big deal?

  I scrutinized his bag as much as possible before he slipped into his seat and tucked it under his feet. I wondered how likely it was that it had a false lining and was packed with drugs he was smuggling. That would explain the arrangement for faster passage through security and the first-class tickets. Of course, it wouldn't explain why he would be running drugs to a resort in a tiny beach town that often had more tourists that it did actual citizens. Or how he managed to conveniently arrange to come as my date the exact time he needed to deliver the drugs.

  OK, my imagination is active today.

  I slipped into the seat beside him and rested my bag on my lap. I promptly secured my seatbelt and pulled it as tightly as I possibly could. I would gladly sacrifice some of my comfort if it meant I could feel confident about not being ejected from the plane. When I felt securely buckled into my seat, I dug through my bag for my gum.

  "What are you looking for?"

  "Gum."

  "Why?"

  I shot a look at Luca.

  "Again… do you not fly? It's so my ears don't pop when the pressure changes."

  "I've never had that problem."

  "Because of your connections?"

  I had to give him credit. The man laughed. We had been communicating over text for a couple of weeks now but had only been in each other's actual physical presence for less than two hours. Looking back, I hadn't been the most welcoming or endearing of companions in that time. It wasn't only my nerves about flying or even my dread at showing up at the wedding and trying to enjoy myself while focusing on Thea and her special day. It was Luca.

  He was gorgeous. Like, couldn't catch my breath when I saw him for the first time gorgeous. I had seen a picture of him and knew he was attractive, but now I realized that picture really didn't do him justice. As sexy as I thought he was in that one little glimpse, it didn't prepare me at all for when I actually spotted Luca walking toward me with his luggage. He was tall and muscular, around six-foot-six, with tan skin, thick dark hair, and soulful brown eyes. He was wearing fitted jeans and an untucked light blue button-up shirt. It was casual, but the clothes hung on his body in a way that made him look both effortless and like I had cut him out of a magazine at the same time. His voice was so deep and silky that I wanted to strip down naked and roll around with it.

  Oh, no.

  The moment that thought popped into my head, another snapped in with it. The image of the two of us stripping down and rolling around on luxury bed sheets metamorphized into Kevin standing in the middle of my office. Kevin who I had asked to strip right after meeting him. Shit.

  I grabbed my phone and called Terri.

  "Hey!" she said when she answered. "I thought you couldn’t use your phone when you were in the air."

  "We're haven’t taken off yet."

  "Oh, good."

  "Listen, did HR come down to my office?"

  "HR?"

  "Yeah, I was supposed to go up and talk to them a couple of days ago, but I forgot before I left for vacation."

  "Why?"

  "I think it probably has something to do with thinking that guy was auditioning for the Egyptian fundraiser."

  "The one you asked to get naked and dance for you in your office?"

  "I did not ask him to dance for me. But, yeah, that one."

  "He stood in your office for two hours after you left."

  "Oh, lord."

  "That was months ago. Why is HR coming after you now?"

  "I don't know. He seemed really happy with his new position. I thought it was all over, but then I got a note saying I was supposed to go talk to them. And I didn't."

  "How in the world did you forget you were supposed to go talk to HR?"

  I leaned forward and rested my forehead in my hand.

  "I might be really bad at my job."

  "No, you aren't. You're amazing at your job. You've completely turned things around here. Do you realize how much your fundraisers have made?"

  "You've helped make it happen," I said.

  "Listening to your ideas and nodding occasionally isn't exactly helping you. You have so much going on in your head, girl. It's no wonder you can't remember things sometimes. If I was you, I don't know if I would be able to remember to put my pants on in the morning. At least you've never come in bare-assed."

  "I'll add that to my resume."

  "You aren't going to need a resume anytime soon. HR did come down to see you. They said it wasn't a big deal you forgot to come up, and that they'll talk to you when you get back. It is about Kevin, but it's not a sexual harassment complaint. Apparently, he was intrigued by your interview and decided his true humanitarian calling is being a prop in your fundraisers."

  "Seriously, Terri, you're going to have to stop that."

  "Why? It's good for you. Keeps you on your toes. Keeps your brain moving."

  "The brain that is already so full that I can't remember anything? Perfect." I sat up to let Luca step past me. I waited until he had disappeared through the curtains before I spoke again. "Oh, yeah, and speaking of not being able to remember anything, jot it down on my calendar to send your brother a fruit basket."

  "For what?"

  "To thank him for not coming."

  "That's not very nice. Greg really is a good guy."

  "I'm sure he is, Terri, but have you ever met Luca?"

  I lowered my voice just in case he was lurking on the other side of the curtains.

  "No. Why? Is he hot?"

  "I am so flustered around him. He's got me alternating between rambling like an insane woman and acting like a raging bitch. This man is like nothing I've ever seen."

  "Wait a minute. I thought you weren't in the market for a man. I thought all of this was totally no strings attached. You even offered to pay him. That puts you in a whole weird grey area."

  "Pay that he turned down, just for the record. And just because I can't eat the pretty cupcake doesn't mean I can't enjoy standing at the bakery window."

  "That good, huh?"

  "Do you remember that tiramisu we had for dessert when we went out for Helen's birthday last month?"

  "Oh my god, that was so good."

  "It had that cream that was so sweet and luscious I said I wanted to just lick it up?"

  "Yeah…"

  Terri sounded intrigued, but at that moment I realized Luca was standing right beside me. I had been so caught up in trying to describe him I hadn't even realized he had come back. Oops.

  "I really hope Thea has that on her dessert table. I think we're taking off soon, Terri. Gotta go. Bye."

  I hung up the phone and flattened it to my lap as I leaned back to let him in, praying he hadn't been standing th
ere long.

  "Everything OK at work?"

  "Hmm?"

  "You were talking to Terri. That's Greg's sister, right? You know her from work."

  "Oh," I could feel my face burning. "Yes. Yeah, that was Terri. I was just calling to check in on the office."

  My phone buzzed, and I glanced at the screen.

  "You got caught, didn't you?"

  "Her again?" Luca asked. "They can't hold down the fort without you, huh?"

  "We're a good team. You know what they say. There's no 'I' in intraoffice cooperation."

  "Shut up." I typed back and hastily put my phone down again.

  "Yes, there is. There's three actually."

  "Send me a picture."

  "I am not sending you a picture."

  "Pics or it didn't happen."

  "I'm not going to take a picture of him while we're sitting together on a plane for four hours."

  "Picture or you're actually going with a troll."

  "It's not going to happen, Terri."

  "Picture or you are there by yourself."

  I was positioned awkwardly in my seat, but I sighed, picked up my phone, and snapped a picture as fast as I could. I hoped that whatever Luca was doing on his own phone would distract him enough that he wouldn't notice, but he immediately looked up.